


He Didn't Fall Asleep

by sal_amander



Series: His Grey Wings [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grif needs a hug, Harry is a good friend (?), MOD Harry Potter, Master of Death (Harry Potter), Master of Death Harry Potter, Mentions of other series, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 23:29:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20665598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sal_amander/pseuds/sal_amander
Summary: Grif didn't sleep through that dark blip in his life. He didn't.He did sleep at the end of it though- or was it the beginning?Or:A calming draught does wonders for a panicked individual, Harry finds.(I recommend starting at the beginning of the series, please ^^")





	He Didn't Fall Asleep

Grif woke to the smell of burning.

He scrambled up, backing away from the burning door frame and deeper into the room, away from the crackle of the fire outside.

Ash and gunk stuck to his feet as he scuffled backwards- a plasma grenade had gone off in here and- how hadn’t he known?! Why hadn’t he woken up?

A steady drip of blood from his forehead, he finally noticed, answered him. It slid down his face slowly, and it seemed to stay at least partially, no matter how hard he scrubbed. All he managed to do was smear it across his hands and forearms- which felt dully like a burn.

His eyes zeroed in on his roommates bunk, and he gagged, heaving his last meal up beside him. 

The top of the frame was dissolved, and the bedding faired little better- but-

Oh god, the blood.

It splattered the walls and the bunk heavily, with chunks of hell knows what pooled on the bed and floor. There were pieces of metal everywhere, and the smell of burnt flesh weighed heavy in the air. 

There was hardly a body left. Just a limp carcass with the torso concave, and the limbs mangled with awkward chunks burnt off. 

Blood was trickling down slowly from what was left of the chest cavity, to the floor in loud slaps.

The ash and debris said that it was placed on that side and well- blew.

The room seemed to spin, and Grif turned to the stand that held his armor. 

A few pieces had been knocked down, and it was covered in ash and- well. Point was, it was whole, and Grif pulled it on quicker than he had ever before. If that was what plasma grenades could do to someone without armor- well. Better safe than sorry.

Grif grabbed his dog tags last and slipped them on and under his suit.

He turned to the doorframe warily, slipping his helmet on. He checked the internal temperature regulator, took a breath, and ran. Straight into the flames and out into the open hall. 

The fire was mainly on the side he just exited, but was quickly spreading. He sprinted down the hall to one of the exits, when he heard yelling.

He was going too fast to stop as he slid around the corner, and straight into a plasma grenade going off. It threw him back and made his head spin- and everything seemed to be beeping- flashing red, and oh, that was his HUD.

He tried to read it, but his head pounded too much to make any sense.

He got up with the help of a wall, and winced at the dead body before him. Someone else was caught in the blast and he didn’t even notice them.

He noticed faintly that his ribs were starting to hurt, and he couldn’t wipe away the blood coating part of his face, but he pressed on, limping towards the exit.

He barely registered the footsteps behind him till the barrel of a gun was shoved on his visor, and the world exploded with darkness.

\---

Grif found himself in a waiting room, with a dull numbness in feeling and his head. 

It was a nice waiting room- pale yellow walls and ac running at cold but not freezing. There were a lot of empty plush chairs, and small coffee tables with magazines on them. There were plants everywhere. On the walls, hanging pots on the ceiling, in the corners and by chairs. Even on some of the coffee tables. They seemed well cared for.

There were no windows, though, but the lights seemed to be soft and a good imitation of natural light.

Grif didn’t notice any of that, though. All that crossed his mind was the barrel pressed against the glass of his helmet- the gunshot- pain pain pain.

His hands flew up and- why wasn’t his armor on?! He was back in a tank top and shorts and where was his armor, oh god.

He had backed himself into a corner when he heard a door click open.

A door that he was sure hadn’t been there before.

A man walked out. He was short and unimposing, with coily black hair that seemed to go everywhere, and medium brown skin. A soft smile graced his features, and he had a seaglass green turtleneck on, with black pants. The most prominent thing he could see, though, were the man’s eyes. They were fluorescent green, and seemed to almost glow.

The man walked over to him slowly with a concerned expression, hands in the air. “Hey, hey, you’re alright, you’re ok, you’re safe.”

Grif’s breathing slowed just a bit. There weren’t aliens shooting at him, there was no screaming, no one was dying.

But he did.

The thought sent his head spinning again, and he stumbled to the ground. The man followed, and oh- he was a lot closer than he had thought. 

A glass of water appeared from somewhere, and was pressed into his hands. “Drink, please.”

Grif didn’t need to be told twice, and he downed it quickly. Immediately, the spinning slowed, and his breath evened out. He was calm. “Whaat was that..?”

The man smiled. “Calming draught- well, and water, too. Thought it might help.”

Grif blinked. “A what?”

“Don’t worry about it” A new voice said from the doorway. The owner was a tall man with orange-red hair that was short, longer on the top, and wavy. He was dressed in generally dark clothing.

“Crowley, there you are.”

And his name was Crowley.

‘Yeah, sorry about that. Was a bit caught up- you know…” He turned to Grif. “This the new person?”

The original man made a face. “I haven’t asked yet, Crowley.”

“Oh.”

Grif turned to them. “Ask me… what? And who are you?”

“Im Harry.”

“Crowley.”

Harry shook his head. “You died right?”

Grif nodded slowly, hand flying up to his forehead unconsciously. “I- I- yeah…”

Humming, Harry patted Grif’s shoulders in an attempt to comfort him. It didn't work much. “Well, Grif,” Grif paused at the use of his name- he hadn’t said it. Harry however, continued speaking.

“You have two options. Go to the afterlife- you’d be going to a pretty nice one by the way -or stay and work for me.”

Grif scrunched his brow. “I- What?!” 

There was a pause. 

“Can you… tell me more then? About them- the options?”

Harry nodded, standing up. “Of course, it'll probably be more comfortable off the ground though. Follow me into my office? It's a bit more home-y than here.”

“Oi! I resent that!” Crowley spoke confidently, but with a grin that said he was joking.

The Overseer shook his head and sighed, gesturing vaguely to the plants scattered about. “Yes, yes, your plants are wonderful, Crowley. You know I don't mean anything by that.”

Grif watched the two banter awkwardly, and cleared his throat.

Harry turned quickly back to him. “Oh! Sorry about that, eeh, come along.”

Standing up awkwardly, Grif followed the two into the ‘office.’

It was a dim, square room, with bookshelves for walls on two sides. A doorway was embedded into one of the shelves, and was open. It lead to a long hall with two white doors on the front left of it, a grey one on the right that he just exited, and one door at the very end, painted black. The bookshelves around the doorway and across the room were filled to the brim with books. 

The ceiling, oddly enough, was a mirror, and reflected everything perfectly. The floor on the other hand seemed to be made of smooth obsidian, and reflected light dully. There were a few rugs scattered about, not matching any particular theme, making an odd but nice picture.

In the corner opposite of the bookshelves there was a dark oak desk, with a maroon, plush armchair behind it. Just beside the desk and chair was a bottle green couch, right arms facing the wall, boxing the furniture in. Behind the desk was a fireplace built into the wall with grey bricks, contrasting the black brick of the walls. There were party light strings and fairy lights strung up around the wall the fireplace was in, and across the bookshelves. 

On the remaining wall, there was a large screen, taking up most of the space. It had all sorts of things running, unidentifiable even as Grif watched it intently.

Harry sat on the side of the desk, and gestured to the couch in front of him, Crowley already flopping onto the far side. 

Grif sat on the end quietly, watching Harry expectantly.

Said man rubbed his hands together in a somewhat excited -or was it anxious?- fashon. “Right then! You, well, you died. Uh-” 

“Well- like, um”

Crowley snickered, “you did so much better last time.”

Harry frowned. “Well it’s been- um- a bit.”

“Hm, well, I don’t particularly want to watch this anymore. I’m gonna go.”

Crowley got up and walked over to the screen and clicked a few things. A few beeping sounds later, and Crowly disappeared, scattering grey feathers in his wake for a reason Grif couldn’t fathom.

After a moment, Harry turned back to Grif. “Sorry about that. So- two options. The first is the option to move on, so to speak. Leave this mortal coil, or something. You go on to your afterlife and spend the rest of existence with fallen loved ones, or friends, or whatever famous person you decide.”

Grif sat quietly, frowning. He wouldn’t have much there waiting for him... “And… the other?”

“Well, you’d work for me,” Harry hummed. “You’d help keep existence in balance. If something too on one side happens, I might send you to balance it out. That doesn’t happen too often though, so you could go back to your home universe, or you could travel others, or anything else under the sun. Or moon. Or whatever the fuck.”

Grif took a breath, leaning back on the couch and staring up at the reflection the ceiling gave.

“What… why do I get this decision?”

Harry turned somber. “It… wasn’t your time. You had, um, things to do, but you- you didn’t.”

Grif bit his lip. “I- Was what would happen… was it good?”

“Well…” Harry sighed, smiling lightly. “It was- well, it was hard. There were instances you might have, um, given up- but… I think you would think it was worth it. You find a family, and reconnect with one as well, and much more.”

Grif paused, staring up at the mirror. “I- that sounds…”

“Tiring?” Harry attempted to supply.

“No- well, kind of. It sounds… nice. Worth it.” He sat back up, folding his hands together and out a few times. “Could I…”

Harry smiled brightly. “Could you live that road? For the most part, yeah. It’ll be different, because you’d be working with me at the same time but… Yes, you can.”

Grif let out a breath, nodding. “I- ok…”

“Ok.” Harry echoed, smiling. “You look like you need some time off first. The road you’re taking doesn’t start for a few years,” he waved his hand and Grif was wrapped in a warm blanket, and an end table appeared with coco and fresh banana bread. 

“You seem tired Grif. Like, tired.” 

Grif blinked, shook his head, and picked up the coco, sipping it. “Well, I am. I…” he looked down at the coco. “I- Maybe, maybe I’ll talk about it later…”

He turned to Harry quietly. The latter nodded, smiling helpfully. “And that’s alright. Just know I’m here for you. So’s Crowley, even if hes abrasive and busy often.”

Harry stood, picking up the plate of sweet bread, and beckoning Grif. “C’mon, I’ll show you your room in this… realm?”

Grif stood, blanket trailing on the floor. “I- I get a room?”

“Mhmm,” Harry nodded. “You don’t have to use it, but you can use it as a retreat, or a place to sleep when you’re on the road. I don’t mind if you bring people as long as they don’t go in my room- or Crowley’s. The office and outside are fine though. Anything they aren’t supposed to know, they won’t be able to make sense of.”

Grif looked towards the screen as they passed, and he could make out all the words and functions now, as well as a vague sense of what they mean.

“Yeah, like that.” Harry hummed.

They got to the hall and Grif noticed there was another white door now. 

“The white doors are the rooms, mine is the first, the middle is Crowley’s, and your’s is the far one. Bathrooms are located adjoining to your room, we all have a private one. The grey door is the lobby you appeared in, and the black door is outside.”

Grif eyed the black door at the end of the long hall. “What’s outside?”

Harry smiled. “Well, it’s mainly just an overly tall forest- a dimension I made. I put some crumbling modern ruins around though, because they’re fun to go around. Any animals you find, your universe native or not, are docile. Even the normally violent predators. Feel free to add what you like, though.”

Grif nodded. “I think- I think I’ll take a nap or something, now.”

“Of course, here, take these,” he handed Grif the tray of Banana bread. “They’ll stay warm and fresh until you eat them.”

“Thank you, Harry.”

Harry beamed, nodding, “if you need anything, I’ll be in the office. If not, knock on my bedroom door,” and he left him to his own at the door. Grif saw him pull out a book and curl on the armchair with a thick blanket.

Grif pulled open his room’s door and slipped inside. 

It was much like a rather nice hotel room, honestly. A nice, nice hotel room, done up in oranges and browns, with a bit of bronze trimming here and there. It had a medium sized kitchenette with washers and a full fridge. 

A queen sized bed was tucked in a corner, and there were closets and drawers in the walls, as well as pamphlets around to help him with ‘getting stuff situated’- mainly getting food and clothes. It had a more homey aesthetic, with old looking wood and weathered metal. The door to the bath was deep brown, and the bathroom itself was done in greys and whites, with orange and brown splashed around as well.

It was nice, and Grif didn’t have a second thought in setting the bread down on the counter and burrowing under the thick duvet to sleep.

After today, he felt he deserved it.

He slept through the appearance of a pair of feathery, grey wings a bit after he fell asleep.


End file.
